


My Body's Waving A White Flag

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Cock Bondage, Deepthroating, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn holds his breath as Liam wraps his hand carefully around his balls and the base of his cock before his semi gets any ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Body's Waving A White Flag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disarm_d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarm_d/gifts).



> Quick and shameless and dirty. This began as a series of texts about [this lovely fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/678893), the [Orgasm Denial Kink Meme](http://disarm-d.livejournal.com/314076.html), and how this kink relates to another Zayn/Liam fic on which we may or may not be working. Title from Use Me by Miguel. [[LJ](http://hostagesfic.livejournal.com/4375.html)]

Zayn holds his breath as Liam wraps his hand carefully around his balls and the base of his cock before his semi gets any ideas. It takes Liam a moment, and a bit of adjusting with help from his other hand- and the sweetest sheepish smile up at Zayn- but then he’s got a tight fist around Zayn and a look like he’s going over instructions in his head. He dips his head and kisses Zayn, dirty in that way that always pleasantly surprises him, all tongue and grazing teeth that send shivers down Zayn’s spine- aimless, because they don’t sit right in his tummy like this, cut off. It’s exactly what Zayn’s been craving.

Then, Liam pulls away abruptly, noses into Zayn’s stubbly cheek. “Good?”

“Good,” Zayn breathes, puckers his lips for one more kiss before Liam moves away, shifts around on his knees. He’s careful to keep his hand tight around Zayn but loose enough that he doesn’t pull the skin much, and Zayn vaguely wonders if that could work, too. Maybe if he gets Liam to lose control enough he’ll pull him hard, and just the thought makes his cock _try_ to jump, twitching helplessly against Liam’s palm.

“Hey,” Liam says, looking over his shoulder down at Zayn, and Zayn shakes his head quickly. Liam’s hand goes tighter, and he lifts a leg over Zayn’s chest, kneels with his legs bracketing Zayn’s torso. Zayn keeps his hands folded neatly over his stomach as Liam scoots back, all but sitting on his face. Liam’s knees end up somewhere behind his head, and Zayn tips his head back, not fast enough to avoid the way Liam’s cock bumps his chin when he lowers himself, elbows digging into Zayn’s hips. Zayn gasps, jaw dropping automatically, trying to get his mouth on Liam’s dick.

“Use your hands,” Liam instructs, arches his back a little to give Zayn more space to move. It’s still tricky, Zayn moving slowly, because it’s not his place to elbow Liam in the thighs, not his goal to push Liam’s legs wider. He wriggles his arms up, hands spreading on the soft insides of Liam’s thighs and searching out the cut of his hips, taking his prick in both hands and tilting his head further to guide the crown against his tongue. 

It’s just claustrophobic enough to make Zayn close his eyes, and then everything is narrowed to the salty bitterness of precome at Liam’s slit and the soft hair on his legs, pressed against Zayn’s forearms. Zayn whimpers and raises his head, sucking Liam’s dick further into his mouth, bobbing shallowly as he gets used to the angle.

Zayn feels Liam’s reaction against the inside of his thigh- he drops his forehead and exhales hotly over Zayn’s skin, tips his chin and presses a kiss to it, nips a little with his front teeth. They didn’t discuss it, but when Liam asked, Zayn didn’t tell him _not_ to move his hips if he felt compelled- the first of it is just a jerky push against Zayn’s tongue, Liam’s hips stuttering while Zayn opens his mouth wide and tucks his lips over his teeth. Zayn squeezes his eyes tighter shut at the odd feeling between his legs, the way his cock _wants_ to harden but simply can’t.

“Yeah,” Liam says, hushed, with his mouth hovering against Zayn’s hip now; he’s pulled himself up, and Zayn can tell in the way that his hips roll smoother, pushing his dick into Zayn’s mouth. The hand not on Zayn’s cock is squeezing his leg, digging fingernails in just above his knee, the soft, sensitive skin behind it.

Zayn keeps a hand around the base of Liam’s cock for entirely different reasons than Liam’s on his own. He uses his own spit to stroke Liam when he pulls his hips up, sucks hard with his lips wrapped tightly around the head, and when he flattens his tongue against the vein on the side, Liam bites the ridge of his hip, huffing through his nose.

“Li,” Zayn whines, lips still half-pressed against Liam’s cock like he can’t get enough of it, can’t keep his mouth off, and Liam rubs small circles against the base of Zayn’s cock with his thumb, teasing.

Zayn strains up at the contact, presses his mouth against the shaft of Liam’s dick in a messy kiss to keep himself from grazing anything with his teeth and whines. It’s only half-calculated; it really does feel too good not to let Liam know, but Zayn also needs to see how far Liam will let him get tonight.

“C’mon,” Liam grunts, thrusts his hips like he’s trying to catch Zayn’s open mouth, and Zayn lends him a hand, guiding the head of Liam’s prick against his tongue. Zayn hums and Liam pushes into his mouth shallowly, kissing a line across Zayn’s lower belly and down his other hip, nipping in places, sucking in others, like he can’t focus on one spot long enough to really leave a mark.

Zayn huffs through his nose- the smell and taste and warmth of Liam like this would be enough to get him hard in seconds, if not get him to come with barely a dry hand to help him out, but tonight all of his body’s reactions seem to lead to- nothing, helpless tremors down his thighs, deep under his skin, ribcage feeling two sizes too small. Liam’s in control, and Zayn won’t get to come- won’t get to be hard, even- until Liam decides he should. Unless Liam decides he should.

It becomes a cycle, then, of Zayn wanting so badly to let his arousal wash over him and Liam’s hand tightening around his soft cock and balls when he feels a telltale jerk or twitch, and _that_ may deter Zayn’s body, but it has the exact opposite effect on his thoughts, his wanting.

Liam sets his teeth on the tender skin of Zayn’s upper thigh and pulls his hips up, using his knees for leverage, until barely the head of his cock is between Zayn’s lips, and Zayn whines, needy.

“Fuck, Zayn,” he mumbles, presses an oddly gentle kiss to his happy trail, “‘s like you’re hungry for it.” Zayn doesn’t deny it, can’t, when he’s whimpering, straining forward, trying to wrap his lips around Liam’s cock to suck it further into his mouth. He just knows that he wants to get Liam off, wants to get Liam to let _go_ and maybe then he’ll- Zayn doesn’t know if he wants Liam to push him further or to let him come, after, but either way at least it’ll be something _more_. 

Liam’s hips thrust down again, his cock slipping past Zayn’s parted lips, and Zayn opens up his throat, hums to encourage him. He nuzzles Zayn’s thigh and fucks his throat, and Zayn chokes a little, lashes damp with tears, but wills himself not to gag. His prick and balls feel like a foreign weight between his legs, deprived and sore in Liam’s viselike grip. Then, Liam lifts his head, slowing down the rhythm of his hips, and exhales a warm puff of breath over the exposed head of Zayn’s dick.

Zayn chokes for real this time, overstimulated and unable to react, and digs his head back into the mattress trying to back off Liam’s cock, exhaling through his nose and swallowing convulsively. When he realizes how tight his fingers have gone on Liam’s thighs, nails digging in and leaving angry pink lines, he pulls his hands away, fisting them in the sheets beside his head. 

“Hey,” Liam says from between Zayn’s legs, lifts his hips away and pets Zayn’s hip. He’s still hovering so close to Zayn’s cock, close enough that Zayn both dreads and craves the feel of Liam’s lips brushing his skin as he speaks, teasing him almost cruelly. “Don’t want you passing out on me,” he hums, and when he pecks a kiss over Zayn’s slit, lips just as warm and plump and wet as Zayn imagined, Zayn keens, twists his hands up in the sheets painfully.

“G’on,” Liam grunts, lowers his hips again but keeps them steady, lets Zayn slowly work his way back to a good rhythm. Zayn’s pretty sure the dampness on his face is more tears than spit now, but it’s okay, he’s okay, because Liam’s got one big hand at his hip, thumb digging into his heart tattoo, and he’s not going to give him more than he can take. Zayn _trusts_ Liam. Even the ache in his jaw, in the pit of his stomach is testament to that, to how he’ll let Liam do whatever he wants, right now, because it’ll be better than he can do for himself.

Once Liam’s stomach muscles clench and the absentminded nipping and kissing at Zayn’s hip fades off, Zayn wraps a hand around the base of Liam’s cock and jerks him clumsily, desperately into his mouth. Liam gasps and squeezes _hard_ around Zayn’s dick, makes Zayn’s hips jerk helplessly- and comes in spurts down his throat and across Zayn’s tongue, smearing at the corner of his mouth, bitter and salty and warm.

Zayn swallows as much as he can, breathless, face hot and wet; he might be crying again, but he’s not really sure. He’d managed to squeeze his eyes shut, not sure what Liam’s plan was, not wanting to get come in his eyes, and it’s too hard to open them, now. He’s still got them closed when Liam eases up on his dick but keeps his palm pressed against it, fingers under his balls, slowly shuffling around to fall heavily at Zayn’s side. Zayn turns his face towards him, lets his mouth fall open, still trying to catch his breath, showing off what he’s sure is the mess of his chin and throat, hoping Liam isn’t too tired to touch him, now. 

“Look at you,” Liam hums, laughs tiredly and scrubs his free hand over his bristly hair. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself all messy, Zayn.” Scooting closer, he swipes his thumb over Zayn’s chin, then pushes it into Zayn’s mouth, grinning when he licks up the come, eyelids heavy.

“Mmm,” Zayn breathes, presses his tongue against the pad of Liam’s thumb and purses his lips around it just to hear Liam laugh again.

Liam ends up feeding Zayn the worst of the come going tacky on his face- there’s not much of it, since Zayn swallowed as Liam came, and when Liam’s satisfied he glances down at Zayn’s dick, still in his hand. “‘m tired, Z,” he decides, and kisses his cheek. “Fuck you in the morning?”

Zayn exhales; it’s easier, knowing whether he’ll get to come or not, and he nods, tiredly, lets his head drop against Liam’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he says, doesn’t say _please_ because that’s begging, and Liam hasn’t asked him to do that. Maybe in the morning. For now, he’s content to curl up in Liam’s arms, his chest warm against Zayn’s back and a hand cupping his balls gently as he hums into Zayn’s hair.


End file.
